


Meeting Ventana

by EverytimeIDoSomethingStupid (kingkongkitty)



Series: The story of a cleric [5]
Category: None - Fandom
Genre: D&D, OC, wheelie bin of shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingkongkitty/pseuds/EverytimeIDoSomethingStupid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the fifth little bit of backstory for my half-elf cleric Filegedhiel. Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Ventana

The twisting backstreets of Pavv were familiar territory to the young urchins who roamed them. The smallest changes to the streets and their occupants were glaringly obvious to the people who walked along the same roads several times a day. After four years of living in these back alleys, Filegedhiel could swear she’d know if a cobble in the paved roads had been changed.

Even so, you’d have to be blind to miss the girl now busking along the thoroughfare, skillfully playing a battered guitar that had clearly seen better days. Fil watched her for a few minutes, peeking around the corner to get a better look at her. She was filthy, a birds nest of green hair was piled atop a too pale face, dirt marring both cheeks. The sunken look of starvation had hollowed out the contours of her face, lending an aged appearance to the young girl.

She was clearly an urchin, just like herself, but was obviously not looking after herself. Although Fil went hungry most days, she always took the time to patch her clothes up and brush her hair out - with fingers if necessary - before plaiting it neatly and coiling it on top of her head to keep it out of the way.

Fil could remember the state she’d been in when she’d first been abandoned, and this girl was clearly little past that stage of initial independence and panic. She’d been helped by a stranger who’d helped her find her feet in this city. It was only fair that she paid the favour on.

Pulling a copper piece from her boot, Filegedhiel walked towards the girl, flipping the coin into the cup set before the bard. It landed neatly, jostling the contents of the cup with the satisfying sound of metal hitting metal before settling.

The girl nodded in acknowledgement as Fil leant on the wall opposite, arms crossed as she waited for the song she was playing to end. The bard stood at the end of her piece, walking over with a small smile. “Thank yo-”

“You don’t look like you’ve been eating.” Fil cut her off, tone heavy with concern. She could remember when she first started on the streets, the knife-sharp pain of hunger having faded to more of an inconvenience after so many years of scrounging for her food.

The girl gave her an unconvinced look, fidgeting with her guitar uncomfortably. “You don’t look much better.”

Fil shrugged, twisting the plain bag on her shoulder as she spoke. “I’m used to it, you’re new around here. You’ll need food more than I will. I can help with that.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” The bard’s expression hardened with distrust, eyes narrowing, unsure of the sincerity with which Fil spoke, before relenting slightly. “I’m Venthana. You are?”

“FIlegedhiel.” Fil awkwardly offered a hand to shake, adopting the mannerisms she’d learn back while in her father’s care.

“That’s a bit of a mouthful.” Venthana shook her hand with a grin, the brief moment of tension seemingly forgotten. “I’ll just call you Fil if that’s okay?”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that.“ Fil laughed, pushing an escaping strand of hair from her face as she spoke. “The nickname’s fine, but can I call you Ana?”

“You can call me Ven, but not Ana,” Venthana pulled a face at being called Ana, looking a little hurt.

“Ok, Ven it is.” Fil shrugged. It didn’t matter to her which nickname the girl would prefer. “Either way, you need feeding.” She looked over the green-haired urchin with a critical eye. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m thirteen.”

“You’re new around here?” That was a pointless question if ever she’d asked one. It was blatantly clear that Ven was new. “Stick with me. It’s safer in groups when you don’t know your way around.”

“Thanks,” Venthana began to pack up the worn guitar, placing it into her case and closing it up. “Two things first, how old are you? And can we go back to my - for lack of a better word - storage place?”

“Fifteen.” Fil watched her pack up, keeping an eye out for any troublemakers but making no move to help. “Course we can. You know the way from here?”

“Yeah, follow me.”

The two of them walked through the familiar cobbled streets until they reached the back wall of the Bulls Head, a cheap tavern that was surprisingly hospitable to urchins if they were clean and willing to do some hard graft.

There was a small alleyway down the side, half hidden by ivy that Ven ran into. Following her closely, Fil looked around at the storage area. It was a decent size, with solid stone walls enclosing the majority of it, the only entrance being the hole through which they’d entered, belongings strewn over the whole area with little to no visible sign of security, no door or anything that could be used as such.

“This is a pretty decent setup you’ve got here. But it’ll be robbed easily. You’re lucky it’s stayed untouched for so long.”

“It’s where Scanlan kept his things. I just took over when he left,” A pang of sadness flickered across Venthana’s face as she spoke.

Fil nodded absently, glancing around at the other girl’s belongings. “Either way, it’s unlikely it’ll stay like this for long. Take what you need and then we can move somewhere safer. Any coinage you have left, put in your boots. It makes it harder to nick that way.”

Ven followed her instructions, grabbing a few items from around the room and then hauling out a dark green case not dissimilar to the one her worn out guitar was in. ‘Grohl’ was embroidered across the front in hot pink thread, looping letters that evidently held some significance to the bard.

“What the hell is in there?”

Venthana shrugged, speaking as though it was obvious. “It’s my nicer guitar. I don’t want to busk with it and risk getting less money.”

“Smart girl” Fil nods approvingly. “We can keep it safe elsewhere. Anything else you need to grab? I can help carry your things if you need me to.”

Venthana shook her head, politely declining the offer. “That’s about it. This is all I have.”

“Alright then. Follow me.”

Fil lead Venthana through narrow, winding streets, avoiding any of the dodgy areas of town until the familiar chimney of the local tavern came into view. She kept an eye out for lights flickering at the window to the kitchen, smiling with satisfaction when the room appeared to be empty.

"Quickly now.” She sprinted to the back of the building where a heavy metal trapdoor was embedded into the foundations of the building. She picked the lock easily. After six months of living here, she could practically do it with her eyes closed.

The trapdoor swung open smoothly and Fil jumped down, ignoring the metal staples in the wall that doubled as a ladder before turning and watching as Venthana carefully climbed down into her home.

The room was small but clean, almost half of it taken up by a pile of straw packed under a tattered blanket. There was a small pile of belongings in the corner furthest from the entrance and a makeshift shelf with several candle stubs, half a loaf of bread and a handful of apples above them.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” Fil watched Venthana’s expression slightly nervously, glad when a smile crept across the other girl’s face.

“This is a nice looking place, better than the dump I was sleeping in,” Venthana said, looking around the room.

“This back wall is part of the kitchen’s oven, so it’s warm all winter.” Fil patted the smooth brick wall affectionately. “The owner doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d prefer to keep it that way, so we need to be quiet when we’re living here, alright?”

“Sure.” Ven nodded in agreement, starting to prop her belongings up on a free stretch of wall.

“Awesome,” Fil smiled with relief, shutting the trap door quickly when she heard the familiar screech of the pub’s garden gate lock being forced open.

As the two of them got comfortable and set about organising their belongings between them a slightly bedraggled mouse squeezed out from Venthana’s pocket. It ran across the floor in a streak of white, and with a startled squeak a smaller, darker mouse emerged from the opposite side of the room. The two girls watched as the mice cautiously approached one another, and with a little encouragement and a crumb of cheese Fil found squirrelled away under her bed the two mice were at ease with one another.

Venthana grinned as she watched them. “Looks like Chalk’s made a new buddy.”


End file.
